A Rose of the Darkest Blue
by Marluciel
Summary: An elleth finally escapes from her captivity into a world she that finds is... drastically different from the one she knows. How does she cope with the changes? Rated mostly for occasional crude language
1. Chapter 1

**Marluciel: heyy, this is my story I've created out of complete boredom! I dont own anything but the plot and my OCs, some of which that belong to Healer Anduniel. One warning, my OC is somewhat... Mary-Sueish, at least in my opinion. Ive taken a very... LARGE poetic licence here so... yeah. I hope you like my story!**

_"Blahblahblah" Black Speech_

"blahblahblah" Sindarin

**:** blahblahblah **:** Quenya

**/** blahblahblah **/** Rohirrim

* * *

"_Come out, little elf, we always find you,"_ The harsh dialect of Black Speech of my hunters floated eerily through the cold, dark air.

I skidded past a corner and ducked inside a large niche in the cave tunnels, my breaths loud in my ears while my hands scrabbled for a rock, a stick, anything that could be used as a weapon.

"_Come out, come out, where ever you are..."_ the Orcs' torchlight was growing steadily brighter and I could see their silhouettes flickering oddly on the rough stone walls. I pushed my body even farther back against my nook, sucking in a breath as the stone scraped over sensitive and abused skin. The orc's footfalls stopped suddenly.

"_Did you hear that?_" One asked. I froze in panic.

"_I smell her!"_ Another said eagerly. Oh, fantastic. I had about six orcs after me, by the sound of their footfalls and the stench. I watched in terror as their blurry shadows became more and more defined against the tunnel. Suddenly, they turned to the right. They were going to my previous hiding place! I let out a breath that I hadn't realized that I had been holding. One paused.

"_She's not here!"_

I rolled my eyes. What an _idiot_. The leader obviously thought this as well, because the grinding of his machete against its sheath told me he had pulled it out and was probably pointing it at the idiot's stomach. Or some other body part for that matter. I cringed as I heard the wet sound of a sword plunging through thick, wet meat and the gurgling of blood choking the orc's throat. The now dead orc fell to the ground and a blue-black blood splatter decorated the flickering cave walls. I pressed my nose into my ragged tunic in hopes of plugging out the stench, but the fresh smell of dead orc was so overbearing, my head spun, leaving me momentarily lightheaded. The leader was sliding his machete back into his belt.

"_Now that that _idiot _is gone, FIND THE STUPID SHE-ELF!_"

He stomped off farther down the tunnel.

"_Wait! That was my brother you just killed!_" One orc cried furiously. "_you'll pay for that_!" (1)

I rolled my eyes. Brother, eh? Idiocy must run through the family, then. The clink of the leader's boots stopped suddenly as he swivilled on his toes to look at the offending guard.

"_Excuse me?"_ He hissed dangerously. The ex-orc's brother realized his mistake too late and began to whimper.

"_I'm sorry, sorry! Forgive me!" _

There was a wet, sickening crack as I could only imagine that the offending orc's jaw had a) been broken or b) ripped clean off. A flash of metal in the dim light, and then a torrent of blood slapping onto stone. Then a kick- and the dead orc slid right in front of my nook. One look told me I was right- his lower jaw had been cleanly removed.

I heard more yelling of the orc's party, and the clang of swords. _Ah, great_. I thought sarcasticly. _A full blown fight right in front of my and I'm defencele-_ I stopped mid thought as I looked down thoughtfully at the ex-orc in front of me. His sword was still clipped to his belt. It looked a bit heavier than I was used to but...

I quickly looked down the corridor to see the huge brutes still fighting. The leader had lost an arm, but was still going on strong. I fluidly slipped down from my niche and tried to unclip the orc's sword as silently as I could.

Luck wasn't on my side. I struggled with the sheath for a few moments before pulling the sword free.

...And.

... And the sheath flew out of my hands and clanged loudly against the wall.

I froze as the orcs stopped the fighting to stare at me before charging.

"_Oh, damn!_" I cursed before running off in the opposite direction.

(1) yes, I know that orcs probably don't have family, but... still. Poetic licence, remember??


	2. Chapter 2

**Marluciel: heyy, this is my story I've created out of complete boredom! I dont own anything but the plot and my OCs, some of which that belong to Healer Anduniel. One warning, my OC is somewhat... Mary-Sueish, at least in my opinion. Ive taken a very... LARGE poetic licence here so... yeah. I hope you like my story!**

_"Blahblahblah" Black Speech_

"blahblahblah" Sindarin

**:** blahblahblah **:** Quenya

**/** blahblahblah **/** Rohirrim

* * *

Their feet pounded after me as I skidded down corridor after corrider, occasionally slamming into a couple walls in my mad scramble. The sword that I had stolen was tied to my waist by my belt made of rope, but the blade would bounce against my thigh and calf, cutting into my skin. I only hoped I wouldn't hamstring myself.

I was leaving a trail of blood wherever I went, and if that wasn't a total giveaway, I didn't know what was.

I abrubtly turned a corner and screeched to a halt. Dead end. Oh, no...

I turned around to face my grinning chasers. There were only three left from their fight. "_Looks like you have no where else to go..._" One sneered.

I sneered back, and ran through them as fast as I could, swinging my sword quickly, slicing myself a passage through their arms. I gave a hiss of pain when the orc leader bit right through my forearm. I had to hack his head off to make him let go, and even then I had to pry the dead jaws apart to free my arm. It was bleeding freely and heavily, so in order to lessen the blood flow I ripped a strip of cloth from my already ragged leggings. I tied it tightly around the wound and moved silently through the tunnels towards the weaponry, where I knew my swords were kept.

Halfway there, however, I heard the screams of a prisoner being tortured. I slinked stealthily through the shadows to peer through an open cell door. An orc stood over a sobbing elf, a three tailed whip in hand. I winced- I knew what a sucker _that_ was. Seeing that the orc wasn't going to stop anytime soon, and that the elf was going to die anytime soon, I slipped in quietly, raised my stolen sword, and brought it down with a satisfiying _thunk_ into the orc's back. It screamed, and fell fowards loudly. The elf on the ground looked at me with amazement.

"You.. you saved me!" He cried in a language I couldn't understand, something that sounded like a lazy version of Quenya. I got the gist of what he was saying, but I was somewhat insulted that he was degrading a language.

**:**I'm sorry, what language do you speak?**:** I whispered quietly.

It was his turn to look confused now. "What did you say?" Oh, great. I had an idiot prisoner on my hands. I didn't have time for this! I still had no idea to what on earth he was saying, and it was grating on my frayed nerves.

**:**Never mind**:** I growled.** :**Let's get out of here!**:**

The elf had no idea what I was talking about, but the tight hold I had on his elbow while leading him out of his cell gave him an idea about what I wanted to do.

"What's your name?" He asked as he was half-walking, half-yanked down the corridors. I looked at him with a I-have-no-idea-what-in-world-your-saying face. He quickly gestured to himself with his free arm. "Lucien." I crinkled my nose. What a weird name! And what a time to be asking for names, if that's what he wanted. I decided to humor him, even though I could hear a stampede of orcs shaking the cave walls.

**:**Marluciel.**:**

I didn't give him a chance to respond- he really did love to talk- and pulled him into the weaponry and locked the door shut. I quickly gazed through all of the stolen items until my eyes rested upon my life, my treasure.

My black machete with ivory inlays laid proudly over a pile of gold- and recently polished. Obviously, the orcs appreciated my sword as much as I did. I walked over to it quickly and found its sheath next to it and clipped it on my back. I smiled as the familiar sword slid comfortably on my spine. Nearby were my matching throwing knives, still in the belt. I grabbed that and slid it around my waist. I looked around for my black and white combat daggers, spotting them on a stone alclove a couple feet away. I reached for those and strapped them to the underside of my forearms, wincing as one brushed uncomfortably against my bite.

Lucien only had time to grab a bow with a full quiver of arrows when the door started shaking. I grabbed his arm.

**:**Let's go! This way!**:**

The orc-for-brains still didn't know what I was saying- he wanted to find more stuff, but I yanked his arm hard enough to dislocate his shoulder.

I knew my escapes very well- I had tried running away countless times before- one earning me a huge scar that ran a ropy trail from my left shoulder to my right hip, a token of friendship from my ex-guard. I say ex because I returned him the favor the last time I tried leaving, only I took his head, too. Another reminder of what happens when someone runs away was given to me by my sadist of a guard, branding me with something in their black speech on my back. I hadn't gotten the opportunity to see it yet. But these didn't stop me from still trying.

I pushed open a hidden stone door, and we were out into the light.


	3. Chapter 3

**Marluciel: heyy, this is my story I've created out of complete boredom! I dont own anything but the plot and my OCs, some of which that belong to Healer Anduniel. One warning, my OC is somewhat... Mary-Sueish, at least in my opinion. Ive taken a very... LARGE poetic licence here so... yeah. I hope you like my story!**

_"Blahblahblah" Black Speech_

"blahblahblah" Sindarin

**:** blahblahblah **:** Quenya

**/** blahblahblah **/** Rohirrim

* * *

My joy at being free at last was swamped over, and literally. In my minds eye I could hear screams of... short people? Rather dwarfish in stature. Orcs were hunting them, their mouths twisted into wicked grins, red blood dripping from their jaws. Many of the cave dwellers here lay slain, limbs at odd angles on the crimson soaked ground. No one was alive.

My eyes snapped open as Lucien shook my shoulders vigorously. "Marley! Marley!"

I scowled mentally. What was that he called me? Last I checked, my name was MARLUCIEL, not Marley. I was offended at the butchering of my name. But then again, I guess maybe he couldn't pronounce my name correctly and settled for that horrible... Marley name.

Around us were scattered bodies, the same that I had seen in my mind. The air of the antechamber (from the looks of it) was thick and smelled like rotted carrion, the metallic sweetness of old blood sticking to the roof of my mouth.

:Sweet Elbereth: I breathed, as Lucien said "Sweet Elbereth..." We looked at each other and cracked a sad grin- it was the first time we understood each other.

I heard the clang of hammers and the sound of many, many orcs stomping up to the antechamber. Lucien and I exchanged panicked looks and sprinted to the door, which opened after much pushing and straining with a loud creak. Lucien almost fell into the pool of water directly in front of the doors, but I pulled him back by his leggings just in time.

"_Don't!"_ I hissed, not realizing it had come out in Black Speech until I noticed Lucien's obvious shudder. I ignored it, because Lucien understood what I was saying, and continued. "_There's something in the water, can't you feel it?"_

Lucien shook his head, but stayed clear of the water anyways.

We were sprinting through the trees when I heard the twang of an arrow being released.

"_Get down!" _I yelled in Black Speech. Lucien did as I told, and where his head had been moments before, a thick black arrow quivvered, half-embedded in a tree trunk.

"That was close," Lucien said shakily, and even though I didn't speak his language, I understood what he was conveying and nodded fervently.

_"We need to either run very fast or fight." _I whispered. Looking at Lucien's battered and bleeding form, I doubted that he could do either. _"Hide up in the trees, I'll fight them off."_ Lucien looked reluctant to leave me, but he saw my reasoning and darted up a nearby tree.

His head peeked through the foliage and said quietly, _"Be careful,"_ and was gone.

Not soon after, the quiet of the forest was interrupted by the sound of snapping underbrush. I guessed that there were about 10 orcs after us, by the amount of noise that they were making. I fingered my throwing knives in my belt- I could probably handle them- orcs are stupid and slow, easy enough to kill. The first three that stepped into my view had little time to look around, because in moments three of my throwing knives had lodged themselves securely in now freshly bloodied orc throats.

The next to orcs were more careful stepping into the claring after seeing their comrades drop dead. One caught the sight of me, but I pulled out my machete and cleanly removed his head before he could focus his bow on me. His fellow brute spotted me and hefted out his huge cleaver with a snarl and swung, I barely got out of the way in time- the tip of the sword clipped my side, ripping my already ruined tunic. The cut wasn't deep, but I could feel poison slowly creeping through my system, warm blood painting my side. I hissed in pain.

Behind that orc, another was coming through. I twirled my machete and then threw- it went through the first orc's through and into the stomach of the next. I smiled in statisfaction.

Suddenly, the BIGGEST, HUGEST orc I had ever seen in my life stepped into veiw. It was two times heavier, talller, strong, and faster. I was screwed. I said a few choice words in Quenya and Black Speech.

He didn't come running at me as I thought he would- obviously he was smarter as well. Instead, he watched me carefully through slanted black eyes.

And then he lunged. I pulled my combat daggers and used them both to block the overhead blow that he was swinging down on me. I was weaker, and I felt myself loosing. The poison from my side wound was making me dizzy and lethargic.

We exchanged blows, I took an arm off with a satisfying thunk. I watched as it fell to the ground, which was a bad move. The orc took me off guard and dashed forewards, and I rolled to miss his parry. The tip plunged into my shoulder and scraped down past my collarbone. It was deep- I could see bone and I was bleeding fast. I had to fight with one arm, for my injured shoulder didn't allow any movement. Quickly he had me defenseless and pinned up against a tree- my daggers yards away. He was pulling back for the finishing blow when the twang of a released arrow whistled through the air and landed with a wet thunk in the back of the giant brute's neck. It went crosseyed for a moment, sword dropping. It soon sank into the ground, dead.

I looked up to see Lucien hurrying towards me with his bow in hand."_Are you alright?" _He asked, wincing as the Black Speech rolled off his tongue.

_"Yeah, I think."_ I gasped as he helped me up._ "Good shot,"_ I congratulated after a breif pause.

_"No problem,"_He said, looking uncomfortable_.__" Can you walk?" _

I took two wavering steps when nausea took over. I emptied my dinner from four nights ago at Lucien's feet. He ignored it with considerable grace, however.

"You're all bruised up, here let me help you." At my inquisitive glance, he sighed and reluctantly reverted to Black Speech._ "You're hurt. I'll patch you up."_ He ripped off his own tunicand tore it into long strips, wrapping my side and shoulder tightly. Instantly dark red blood stains colored the grimy dark green cloth. Lucien made a face, but didn't comment. He wrapped an arm around my waist, helping me gather my machete, daggers, and even pulled my throwing knives out of the orc's throats. I was oddly moved.

**:** Thank you.** :** I said in Quenya. Even though Lucien didn't understand me, he nodded and smiled kindly at me.

_"Let's get out of here," _He said, looking around and pulling me with him._ "We don't want more yrch following us."_

We were both weakened greatly, so our pace was considerably slower than our earlier pace. I would throw up every so often, blood coming up now as I hadn't eaten anything in the past four, maybe five days. My vision was swimming and I fell quite a bit.

_"Oh, sweet Elbereth! Thank you!"_ Lucien cried.

I looked up and agreed: there were two horses standing in front of us, both elven by the looks of it. One was a very proud white stallion, and the other was a smaller, pretty roan mare. Lucien tried mounting the white horse, but it snorted and tossed its head back, stomping its feet. If Lucien tried nearing the horse again, it would snap its teeth inches above his head. Lucien took the hint and walked over to the roan_."Here, we'll ride this together."_

Lucien held out a hand. I walked over, but the white stallion butted in and pushed its nose on my cheek. Lucien and I exchanged surprised glances. The stallion only tolerated Lucien to help me out before snorting the elf away.

Lucien mounted onto the mare and we were off. The stallion's mane was sliky soft under my hands, and I could hardly feel him as he trotted. The ride was incredibly smooth. The stallion let me lean my forehead against his neck as Lucien blabbered for hours about his home, Mirkwood. I had heard the name Mirkwood many times while I was in the cave prison, but I had no clue what it was. Due to my constant paranoia, I didn't bother asking him. Lucien continued about his family, his children, and his horses. I didn't have the heart to tell them that they were all probably dead."_Where are you from? Where's your home?"_Lucien asked, looking at me inquisitively.

I thought long and hard. I couldn't remember anything but being in those dark caves of torture my whole life._ "I... I don't know,"_ I admitted._ "I've been those caves for so long, I can't remember."_ Lucien got an odd gleam in his eyes, but it quickly vanished and started an animated conversation with himself in his native tongue. I tried ignoring him.

Suddenly, a fat drop of rain landed on my head. I looked up- the sky was black with storm clouds. In moments, heavy sheets of rain poured down, soaking me to the bone, not to mention making me freeze. All I could hear or see was the rain, water getting into my eyes, blurring my vision.

**: **LUCIEN**! :** I yelled. I couldn't even hear myself.** :** Let's go look for him,** _:_**_ I nudged the horse, and we wandered around for three hours, lost and cold. My vision was spinning again, _causing me to lean against the white stallion's neck. I was seeing dots and blood was pounding through my head in a painfull drumbeat, every so often coughing up blood over my ride's pretty white coat.

Suddenly the stallion slipped through the underbrush and I barely registered that we were following a path lined with white stones.

I was so, so tired...

Minutes later, in front of a bridge, I slumped foreward, unconsious in blissfull blackness before falling off of the stallion.

I didn't hear the slaps of running footfalls in the rain or the yells of startled voices.

It was the first time in a long time that I had a peaceful slumber.


	4. Chapter 4

**Marluciel: heyy, this is my story I've created out of complete boredom! I dont own anything but the plot and my OCs, some of which that belong to Healer Anduniel. One warning, my OC is somewhat... Mary-Sueish, at least in my opinion. Ive taken a very... LARGE poetic licence here so... yeah. I hope you like my story!**

I came to in a pair of foreign arms. Above me and around, a conversation was taking place.

" _Ada_, we were following the elleth once she came near the path. She was calling for someone-"

"And it looked like she had been out in the storm for hours." Another voice piped up. I was annoyed. They were speaking the same language of Lucien, so, naturally, I wouldn't be able to understand. I kept my eyes shut and body still, so they wouldn't suspect that I was awake.

"I don't know _how _she could have been riding Asfoloth, though." The second voice continued. It sounded frustrated. "Asfoloth _never_ lets anyone ride him except for Glorfindel!"

"Never mind that, 'Ro." The first voice sighed. "She was near the bridge when she suddenly collapsed and fell off. She's in really bad shape, _Ada_. Who would do that to such a young looking elleth?"

"This is grave. Place her on the cot so I can have a look at her." A new deep voice entered the conversation. I felt myself being carried and gently depositied onto a soft bed, something I hadn't felt in too long. The new voice tutted and in my minds eye I could see the owner shaking it's head.

Nimble fingers reached for the wrappings on my shoulder when I decided it would be the right time to "wake up". If there was one thing I couldn't stand, it was other people touching me. I think it was because of my long stay in the caves. In a flash of motion I was on the balls of my feet, grasping the intruding hand with a tight hold.

: Don't touch me! : I hissed dangerously. Everyone in the room seemed to be shocked into silence for a breif moment. I took this as a change to look around. There were a pair of twins near the door, both with a head of black hair and grey eyes, swords out. The elf in front of me seemed to strike a chord somewhere in my body.

I knew I had never seen this elf before, as I had always been down in the caves, but he somehow looked... familiar. He had sharp facial features, intelligent grey eyes with slanted eyebrows. Long pitch colored hair hung down to the middle of his back, two braids on either side of his face.

The elf in front of me recovered from his initial shock first. : Excuse me, : he said, dipping his head politely. : My name is Elrond, and you are in my home, Rivendell. : Rivendell? I had no clue what Rivendell was. I had never heard of it in all my years. Like I did with Lucien, however, I didn't bother asking. : What is your name? :

I looked at him warily. : Marluciel. My name is Marluciel. :

Elrond dipped his head again. : Marluciel. I am a healer and you are badly hurt. If you allow me, I can help you. :

I internally rolled my eyes. : I can heal myself, thank you for your offer. : I replied.

Elrond's brow furrowed. : But you are suffering the effects of orc poison. You could fade if-:

: I appreciate the offer, my lord, but this isn't the first time I've been poisoned. All you need to do is throw it up out of your system and you're good to go. :

Elrond raised his eyebrows. : You seem to be well versed in that area. :

I shrugged. : In all respect, sir, it was needed for survival. Now, : I said, rubbing my hands together. : Tell me where the baths are and I'll be clean and healed in a jiffy. :

Elrond clapped for a maid to come lead me away. I was lead through beautiful hallways full of paintings until we reached the bathrooms. The maid bowed to me and left quickly, and I couldn't blame her. I hadn't taken a bath in Eru knows how long, and I bet I _reeked_.

I slipped inside of the baths and padded over to a wooden bench where I carefully proceeded to strip off my clothes. I folded them neatly in a pile on the bench and looked for a mirror. I found one standing not too far away, with intricate flower patterns weaving up and down the sides.

I took one look at my reflection and _grimaced_. My skin was covered in such a layer of grime my skin matched my hair, which was an odd blue-black sort of color. I hadn't looked at myself in so long, it was as if I was looking at a stranger. My eyes were a bright, almost sea-foam green. I took a step back in surprise, I didn't remember what my eye color had been. I studied my face a bit longer before padding quietly over to the bath, water lapping softly against the edges.

I sank into the water greatfully, with a satisfied moan. My muscles relaxed immediately in the warm water, allowing me to stretch out. A few minutes of lazing about later, I started to undo my wraps after the hot water loosened the bandages from my skin. I winced as the hot water stung my wounds, but sucked it up. It was much better than the sludge that lined my cell, so who was I to complain?

I grabbed a bar of soap that was sitting on the edge and proceeded to clean my body of all the grime, dirt, and orc blood. I picked up and comb and untangled years of knots out of my long hair and by the time I was done, I hardly looked like I had been kept in a prison cell for countless years.

I stood up and walked over to the mirror once more to see my reflection. I looked much cleaner, although my skin was deathly pale with a hint of yellow- the color of someone that hadn't seen the sun in much too long. I could count my ribs clearly through my skin, and I appeared much shorter than an average elf, maybe around 5' 3". My height made me look very young, probably why everyone that I ran into treated me like a child. My hair was still that blue-black color, so I had to only guess that it was my natural color. It offset my bright seafoam green eyes nicely

I was struck with a sudden thought and twisted around so I could see my back, and in burned black letters across my shoulder blades read in Black Speech, "PROPERTY OF SAURON". I hardly noticed my numerous scars that littered my body as the impact of the words stained onto my back hit me.

I slid down onto the floor and cried.

_"Blahblahblah" Black Speech_

"blahblahblah" Sindarin

**:** blahblahblah **:** Quenya

**/** blahblahblah **/** Rohirrim


	5. Chapter 5

**Marluciel: heyy, this is my story I've created out of complete boredom! I dont own anything but the plot and my OCs, some of which that belong to Healer Anduniel. One warning, my OC is somewhat... Mary-Sueish, at least in my opinion. Ive taken a very... LARGE poetic licence here so... yeah. I hope you like my story!**

When my sobs had reduced to harsh breaths, I shakily pulled myself up from the cold marble floor and over to the bench where a new, clean outfit was laid out for me. My heart plummeted when I held the garments up- it was a dress. I had never, ever enjoyed wearing those torture devices called dresses.

It had been so long since I had ever put on a dress, but my hands seemed unattached from my body as they laced up my white chemise and silky dark grey overdress with a mind of their own. There was a pair of soft black slippers, but I opted to go barefoot instead, as the dress' hem covered my feet. I slipped my machete down my back, and it looked like nothing was there. Then I carfully clipped my combat daggers underneath my loose sleeves and hid my belt underneath the skirt. When I stepped out of the baths, I was surprised to see Lord Elrond waiting outside for me. He dipped his head while I curtsied.

: Lord Elrond, I'm surprised to see you, : I said.

He smiled lightly : You're my mysterious guest, why wouldn't I be here to learn more about her? :

I nodded in agreement. : Well, what is it that you would like to know, my lord? :

He offered an arm and I took it as gracefully as I could, ignoring the scream of my strained shoulder. We walked silently through another painted hallway. : Why is it that you speak Quenya, and not Sindarin? : He finally asked.

I cocked my head to the side. :I'm sorry, Sindarin? :

Elrond looked incredibly surprised. "Can you not understand me?"

He was speaking in Lucien's tongue again. I shook my head. : So that's what that language is called? Sindarin? : I made a face as it rolled of my tongue.

: How interesting, : Lord Elrond said.

He pushed a large pair of doors open and into what I supposed was the kitchens, a hustle and bustle place full of sounds and smells. He led me over to a quiet corner where a table was being set by a servant. She bowed to Lord Elrond after looking curiously at me, and left.

: Somehow I believe that I will be getting that same look very often. : I said dryly. Lord Elrond chuckled as we sat down.

: I belive that as well. Tell me, : he said, steepling his fingers and looking intently at me, : How do you not know of Sindarin? I am genuinely intrigued. :

I watched as a serving maid placed down a plate of some sort of pie and a large platter of fruit in front of us. A ceramic pitcher soon followed. Elrond picked up one of the pies and set it on a plate with a fork in front of me, and then poured me a glass of some strange amber liquid. I nodded my thanks. The elf in front of me did the same thing for himself and then looked intently at me when he finished.

I hesistated with my answer. : To tell the truth? I have no idea. I've been a prisoner for a long, long time. :

Elrond frowned. : Who's prisoner were you? :

: Orcs, : I said carelessly before picking up my fork and cutting of a piece of the flaky crust and ate. My eyelids fluttered by their own. I nearly wept with joy- the crust was so buttery and light, I hadn't had something like this in years. I chewed slowly before swallowing, and looked up at Elrond. To say that I was frightened by his angered expression was an understatement.

"Orcs?!" He bellowed in Sindarin. "You've been a prisoner of orcs for Eru knows how long? How could orcs hurt such a young elleth? Sweet Elbereth-" He stopped mid-rant at the sight of my facial expression. : I applogize, : He said hastily. : I didn't mean to scare you and I wasn't yelling at you. I was just... surpised that you had been with orcs. :

I tentively took another bite of the amazing crust and nodded. : It's... it's alright, my lord. :

Elrond took a bite of his own pie. : How long have you been with the _yrch_ ? : He seemed offended at the very word of orc.

I toyed with my fork before answering once more. :Very long. : I finally said. : At the least maybe two hundred years. :

Elrond scowled again. : And how old are you, Marluciel? :

I shrugged once more, allowing his frown to deepen even more. : I'm afraid I don't know the answer, milord. At the most perhaps three hundred years, but I can't be too sure. Mayhaps even two-fifty. :

The pie I was eating painstakingly slowly was too rich for me. I pushed it away.

:Are you not hungry? : Lord Elrond asked after taking a bite of his own.

I nodded. : It's... too rich, it's making my stomach nauseated. :

Elrond put down his fork and looked in concern at me. :Marluciel, : he said softly. : when was the last time you ate? :

: Maybe four or five days ago, : I replied, shrugging. The crease between his eyebrows reappeared.

: Then at least eat this, : He said, passing me a reddish-yellow round fruit. I took it up in my hands and rolled it around.

: What is this? : I asked curiously. : Some sort of plum? : I looked up.

: Nectarine, : he replied. I sniffed it cautiously and then took a tentative bite. Sweet juice filled my mouth and the soft flesh of the fruit tasted exquisite.

I took a couple more bites to Elrond's amusement before swallowing and saying, : Thats good! :

I tried to ingore him studying me intensely while I ate. When I finished and dabbed at my mouth with a napkin, he finally spoke up.

: May I see your wounds? :

I stiffened and paused mid-sqipe.

: Just to make sure that they won't infect. : Elrond injected quickly. I thought for a moment.

Did I want this elf I just met looking at my wounds? He did seem like a person that could be easily trusted, but I had lost the ability to easily trust people a long time ago. He also said he was a healer, and I could see true concern in his grey eyes. It wasn't my mind that made the decision, it was my heart. It was telling me that Elrond really _was_ someone I could trust, like an old friend.

Slowly, oh so slowly, I rolled up my sleeve where the orc had bitten me. I saw a light in Elrond's eye when he saw that I was trusting him. Next I unclipped my combat dagger from my forearm and placed it on the table. Elrond seemed to glance at the dagger longer than normal before returning his attention back to my arm. Fresh blood was seeping through, staining the white strips of cloth I had wrapped on after taking my bath. I carefully started to remove the bandage, sucking in a low breath when the wrap stuck lightly to the bite.

I winced when cold air hit my open wound but didn't say anything. Elrond glared at the large gashes obviously left from teeth on my arm for a full minute before reaching for my arm. I jerked back, an instinct that had been programmed into me. He paused and looked at me for permission, his hand wavering nearby.

I nodded slowly, and hissed as Elrond gently took my arm in his hands and inspected.

: How did this happen? : Elrond asked after a quick look.

I shrugged. : Running away. Got bitten, had to take off the orc's head. : I said nonchalantly.

Elrond shook his head. : It amazes me that you can be so cool about this. :

I shrugged again. : It's something normal for me. I've been bitten before. :

Elrond's head immediately snapped up. :Where? And when? :

Internally I was kicking myself. Why, oh why did I let that slip that out?

: On my other hand. A very long time ago. : Elrond reached to look at it as well, but I snatched it away and hissed, : It's healed over, it doesn't need to be looked at! :

:I appoligize, : I said immediately. : I'm- I'm just touchy about this and I usually don't let people touch me. : I tried to ammend.

But Elrond didn't get mad- instead he merely smiled and nodded. : It's alright, Marluciel. Everyone has a weakness. :

He turned his attention back to my arm. : Athelas? : He asked, surprised. : That's smart of you. :

I hummed in responce. : I always carry some with me, : I said. At his inquisitive look, I explained, : Never know what could happen. :

Elrond stood up and fetched a clean bandage and rewrapped my arm. : Well, you're doing well on your own with that. I'll give you something to remove the scar once it's farther in it's healing cycle. : I nodded my thanks.

He walked me to the kitchen door. : I trust that you can find your way back to your room? : He asked. I nodded a reply. He handed me a basket of nectarines and something that distinctly looked like honeyed seed cakes. : Eat these if you get hungry and... : He paused.

: Yes? : I asked.

: Try and remember, : He said eagerly. : Just try to veiw your memories and see if you can remember where you're from, and maybe we can find your family. :

I shook my head. : I'll try to remember where I'm from, but I belive all of my family members are dead. :

Elrond looked confused. : Why? :

: Orc attack. : I supplied. : Honestly, my Lord, would you really think that I would purposely walk into an orc cave and get myself captured? :

I curtsied and left, walking slowly back to my room, leaving Elrond still in the doorway looking at my retreating form.


	6. Chapter 6

**Marluciel: heyy, this is my story I've created out of complete boredom! I dont own anything but the plot and my OCs, some of which that belong to Healer Anduniel. One warning, my OC is somewhat... Mary-Sueish, at least in my opinion. Ive taken a very... LARGE poetic licence here so... yeah. I hope you like my story!**

_Blahblahblah" Black Speech_

"blahblahblah" Sindarin

**:** blahblahblah **:** Quenya

**/** blahblahblah **/** Rohirrim

When I got to my bedchambers I immediately stripped off my outerdress and threw it on my bed with the basket of food. Then I shimmied out of my chemise and pulled on a rather fitting silver undershirt that went down to mid-thigh and a pair of black leggings that had been kindly left for me in an armoir in a corner. I sank down into a squashy, plush reading chair and placed my elbows on my knees, fingers kneading at my temples.

: How can I remember... : I muttered to myself. It was as if those four words suddenly triggered something inside me, and an onslaught of what I can only call memories assaulted me.

__

A small, white-blonde elleth shrank back in the corner of a disgusting, dark and dirty cell, sobbing as she cradled an obviously broken arm and blood was pouring from a gash over her left eye.

Screams. Orcs and a balrog pillaging a once-beautiful city, now up in flames, the smell of smoke and burning meat filling all senses.

The horrible pain of hot metal pressed on to skin, and an elf with matted dark hair writhed as the brand pushed deeper into her skin. She screamed and then passed into unconsiousness, her guard not caring if she was either dead or alive.

_"Nobody wanted you! You were handed over to us! Not even your own family wanted you! Because you're a freak! A freak who deserves to die!" An orc stood above a sobbing figure as a whip cracked down on the exposed back, blood spattering onto the cell walls._

_The same little white-blonde elleth was running down a gravel path, laughing joyfully as an unknown somebody chased after her. She shrieked with joy as a pair of arms scooped her up and threw her into the air. The sound of masculine laughing mingled with hers._

_: Come on, let's play! : The little elf was pulling on a reluctant matching blonde, only male._

_: You're family, I love you. : A pair of warm, sparkling silver eyes danced with mirth._

I jerked up out of my seat. For some reason, the last three "memories" enraged me. Those weren't mine! I never had a family, and I didn't remember ever being blonde. It had always been that odd shade. The nerve of my mind to play those tricks on me! If there was one thing I craved, it was to have a family.

I stood up and paced. Those weren't my memories. Those weren't my memories. : THOSE WE'RENT MY MEMORIES! : I yelled out, pulling at my hair. I stomped about the room, turning over the chair I had previously occupied. : Stupid, stupid! : I muttered to myself and kicked at the armoir, only to cuss in pain. I hopped around on one foot, holding the other as I let out a stream of very colorful and extremely rude words in Quenya. I stalked over to my bed and threw the pillows everywhere, feathers drifting down softly. I flopped on the bed and buried my head into the covers and let out a very muffled scream.

Five minutes later, feeling emotionally drained, I walked over to the writing desk and fished around for a piece of parchment and quill, and set out writing and pouring out my feelings. I didn't notice that I was writing in Black Speech.

A knock came at my door. : Come in, : I said, and the door cracked open and I heard the soft padding of elf feet. I quickly stood up and stashed the paper I was writing into the drawer and turned around.

There was a dark haired elf standing in front of me, wearing regal navy blue robes and his hair in intricate braids. A quill was stuck behind his ear. I curtsied. : Hello, : I said.

He nodded his head at me. : Hello, I am Erestor. : He said. To me, it sounded like he hadn't been speaking Quenya before, perhaps only studied the language, but never spoken it. :I am Elrond's head scribe and librarian, : He went on to say. : The lord wishes me to show you around Rivendell. :

I looked about the room. : Oh, yes, er, that sounds nice. I'll be with you in a moment, I'll go and change. : I walked over to the bed and picked up the clothes I had recently shed and walked into a separate room, dreading the tour that was about to come.


	7. Chapter 7

**Marluciel: heyy, this is my story I've created out of complete boredom! I dont own anything but the plot and my OCs, some of which that belong to Healer Anduniel. One warning, my OC is somewhat... Mary-Sueish, at least in my opinion. Ive taken a very... LARGE poetic licence here so... yeah. I hope you like my story!**

_Blahblahblah" Black Speech_

"blahblahblah" Sindarin

**:** blahblahblah **:** Quenya

**/** blahblahblah **/** Rohirrim

I flopped down on my newly made bed. While Erestor and I were gone looking around, I suppose some maid came and remade everything.

I felt vaguely guilty for leaving such a mess, for I was only a guest of a mere five hours.

I lay there for a moment, looking up at the ceiling with unseeing eyes before rolling over and pushing myself up. I lolled over to the armoir and opened it up. I leaned on the door as I looked inside, but not really looking. My mind had wandered back to a conversation Erestor and I shared.

_:: ... And there is Lord Glorfindel, of the House of the Golden Flower, last of Gondolin... ::_

Somehow, Glorfindel sounded familiar, but I shrugged if off and allowed Erestor to continue. He blathered on about the sights, the training grounds, the borderlands, more about Elrond. I learned why it was so odd that I only spoke Quenya- the language had been banned to be spoken a long, long time ago and Sindarin took its place, a more modern version.

During our tour, Erestor had taught me some simple, but effective phrases in Sindarin. I wasn't too fond of how the language rolled off of my tongue, since I preferred Quenya, but I had to learn it. Erestor, even though he seemed rather stuffy and formal at the beginning of the tour, surprised me into find him quite entertaining. He loosened up around me and actually said a few funny jokes. He also taught me some amusing insults and curses in not only Sindarin, but other languages called Westron and Rohirrim. We mostly lingered around his library balcony, sitting on the ledge drinking a smooth fruit blend and eating soft, buttery rolls while chatting in Quenya. He pointed things out to me from our perch and I stored the information in my mind, asking him a couple questions when he accidentally slipped back to Sindarin. I helped him with his stumbling speech, and by the time I had left, his Quenya was almost flawless and fell from his mouth fluidly.

I learned little about Erestor himself, so in turn, he learned little about me myself.

With a jolt, my mind returned back to my bedchambers.

I rumaged around through a bunch of horrifyingly guady dresses before finding a nice,loose yet clingy, very short, dark navy tunic with slits on the side and a neck that cut down low, showing chest. After quickly stripping of my dress, I winced as my fingers accidentally brushed over my healing gash on my side, which was scabbing over now. I wrapped my own chest, and after a short moment, wrapped my side was well in white bandages and pulled on the tunic, which oozed over my body in a cool, almost satin embrace. I pulled the tunic down until it stopped just inches below my bum, and through the low cut you could see my white wraps.

I then dug around some more and found a silvery-jade wide cloth belt to tie around my thin waist. I pulled out a pair of deep grey leggings and slid them on before stepping into a pair of black boots that had accents of the same silver-jade color found on my belt. I walked over to my mirror and pulled my long hair into a pair of warrior braids, loose, short strands of hair framing my face. I strapped in my machete over my back, as the tunic I was wearing right now was too tight to slide my sword under without making an awkward bluge. I then clipped on my combat daggers and tucked my throwing knife belt under my tunic's belt. Chancing another glance at my reflection, I pushed open my door and started a light jog towards the training field.

The field was empty when I got there, and I found a nice, secluded and shady area near a large growth of trees. I walked over to it and began my stretches, then unclipping my weapons to sprint around ten laps around the whole field.

When I finished and returned to my shaded area, I was glad to notice that even being in a prision cell for so long I hadn't lost my physique. Sure, I had lost most of my muscle, but my stamina still remained strong, probably from all of the botched up escape attemps of mine.

I reached for my machete that was resting in the crook of a tree trunk and a branch and unsheathed it. I slowly practiced my moves and footwork, until I was merely a blend of color and dances.

I was in my own little world until I heard the snap of underbrush. Fluidly, and without looking or stopping my imaginary fight with invisible orcs, one hand skimmed down to my belt and snatched up a knife and I tossed it in the direction of the sound. I fell over when the yelp of a startled elf and the bellowing guffaws of laughter from the elf's companion interrupted the quiet.

I picked myself up and turned around.

In front of me was a rather amusing sight- the two twin elves I had seen earlier before were there, one of the twins' collars pinned to a tree, who was tugging to try to free himself, but to no avail. His twin was rolling on the ground, positively howling with laughter.

I padded over to the struggling elf and grasped the knife handle, easily pulling it out of the wood and silk collar. :: I'm sorry, :: I appoligized hastily. :: It's instinct, I didn't mean to scare you. ::

The flustered elf straightened his robes before bowing slightly. :: I appologize for sneaking up on you. If I had known that you had very good aim without looking, I would have approached you from the front. :: He gave me a sheepish grin.

:: Well, :: I said , :: is there anything that I can help you with? ::

:: Well, Marluciel, that _is_ your name, is it not? :: At my nod, the ellon continued. :: My brother, companion and I were watching you train all on your lonesome and decided to assist you. ::

I nodded at the request. :: Of course, but I do belive that I am at the disadvantage here- you know my name, but I do not know yours. ::

The two twins swept into exaggerated bows. :: Elladan, :: The twin I had pinned to the tree said while his twin said, :: Elrohir ::

It was then when I noticed the other elf with them. He had wavy dark chestnut hair and piercing blue eyes, some stubble on his chin. I thought this odd, as elves don't have that prickly hair on their faces. He wore a plain sky blue tunic and deep brown leggings, a thin silver circlet on his forehead. From what I could see, he didn't move as gracefully as an elf usually does. But I shrugged those thoughts off and nodded to the awkward looking elf.

:: And you are? ::

:: Estel, :: He said, dipping his head politely at me. His Quenyan accent was flawless, so I only had to guess that this unfortunate being really _was_ elvish. I studied Estel briefly- something was off about him, but then inwardly shrugged. I would find out later.

My machete hung loosely from my hand as I swung it about and bowed lightly to the twins in front of me. :: Well, are we going to fight or no? :: I tried smiling, but I hadn't used those muscles for so long only the corners of my mouth twitched, looking more like a grimace.

Estel found perch on a nearby tree while the twins shed their dark robes, both revealing burgundy tunics beneath. Even though they were identical in every way, I was somehow able to tell them apart. I don't know how, but I could.

Elladan held his longsword in a deceptively loose hand, but I knew not to fall for the trick. Elrohir was twirling _his_ longsword with a relaxed stance. I shifted my weight forwards to my feet, so I would be able to spring in any direction at any moment.

Without warning, they charged.

I leaped up into the air, making two clean backflips before landing neatly behind the charging elves with nary a sound or dust cloud. They swivled around fluidly and started an onslaught of blows and parries. From the force behind their strokes, I could tell that they were only testing me and not using their full potential.

Elrohir lunged at me, and I merely took a step to the side, tripped the black haired elf and sent him sprawling. Elladan tried to come up on me from behind, but I had heard his breathing and jumped backwards, grabbing the shoulders of his tunic and flinging him once my feet touched ground. Elrohir was picking himself up again, but I quickly padded over and used my machete to flip his sword up into the air and I caught it. I heard movement behind me so I swiftly turned and threw Elrohir's sword, once again pinning Elladan to a tree trunk, the sword quivering only centimeters from his side.

I walked over to the struggling ellon and twisted the sword easily out of the tree, said my appologies to said tree for harming it before walking back over to Elrohir to help him up.

:: Now, :: I said, looking at both elves, :: Will you fight me seriously this time? ::

We dueled long into the night, and by the time our clothing was in ruin and our breathing labored, we decided to call it a day. During the middle of our fight, Estel had jumped in, and I was forced to fight all three skilled fighters at the same time.

:: Would the lady be accompanying us to dinner? :: Estel asked. He was certaintly a lot more politer than the two twin ellons.

I thought a moment before nodding slowly. :: That would be nice, :: I said. :: And please, call me Marluciel. ::

Estel nodded. :: Marluciel, then. ::

We walked, my companions doing most of the talking while I listened, until we reached a large chamber where much clinking of silverware and the chatting of elves reached our ears.

Elladan and Elrohir ushered me in and instisted that I take a seat between them, Estel sat across from me. The moment we sat down, an elleth set a plate and goblet before us, and steaming platters of food were laid out proudly.

Elladan had graciously poured me a goblet of what I supposed to be pear nectar while Elrohir filled my plate with a large, buttery roll, baby potatoes and onions in a sort of cream based sause and finally, rosemary seasoned quail. It was so much food.

Well, it was a lot of food for me, at least. Elladan and his twin, and Estel as well had filled their plates until they had reached the considerable sizes of small mountains. My stomach clenched in a greasy knot as I watched them devour their food. I wasn't sure if I could eat in front of all of these people...

I took a hesitant sip of my drink, savouring the sweet, grainy taste of pear. From the head of the table, which was only a few seats away, Lord Elrond's voice spoke up.

"Elladan, Elrohir, Estel. I see that you have met Marluciel?" Since he spoke in Sindarin, the only part of his question I could decipher was the mentioning of my name.

The twins paused in their stuffing to look up at him. Elrohir swallowed before answering, "Yes, _Ada_. We saw her training by herself and decided to join her."

"She's a very good fighter," Elladan quipped, smiling at me. I supposed that he said something nice, but I could merely look my confusion.

:: Don't forget that she completely disarmed the both of you in a mere few moments, :: Estel chimed in, grinning cheekily at the two lightly blushing twins. He shot me a glance, and I was grateful that he noticed that I was completely confused with their Sindarin converation.

:: Is that so? :: Elrond said, looking interestedly at me, an eyebrow arched.

I blushed deeply and nodded into my goblet.

:: She's got great form and footwork as well, :: Elladan said.

:: Please, :: I implored, looking at the twins and Estel, :: You're embarassing me enough as it is! Enough with the flattery! ::

The three exchanged matching grins before chiming in at the same time, :: Alright, as you wish. ::

Conversation flowed all around me, but I didn't feel like joining in. I picked up my roll and began to rip it into small pieces, chewing slowly. When I finished half of it, I moved on and cut up one of the smallest potatoes, eating that slowly as well. Hungry as I was, I knew that from my malnourished state, it wouldn't be wise to gorge myself immediately, or I would throw it all back up.

I took a small sip from my goblet when I noticed that everyone was practically staring at me while I ate. I set my cup down softly, and averted my eyes elsewhere. My face turned the same rich color as Elrond's wine, and I fumbled with my hands nervously in my lap. My hair turned into a curtain over my face, as if to protect me. The weight of the stares were suffocating me.

Elladan, noticing my discomfort, leaned over to me and said loudly, :: So, Marluciel, are you up to another round of practice tomorrow eve? ::

I flashed him a weak, grateful glance. :: Yes, that would be rather entertaining. I would appreciate it. ::

At that moment, Estel pushed back a wild strand of hair behind his ear, revealing _rounded ears. _I had never seen anything like it! Where had the points gone? I had never seen and elf with _round ears_ before! It was unheard of! I continued to observe the stunted ears with morbid intrest. Was he born with some sort of birth defect? Could he even hear very well? Estel noticed my inspecting stare and turned rather pink.

:: Er, can I help you with something? ::

I blinked a couple times, and realized that I had been caught staring. :: Appologies, :: I said hastily. :: I didn't mean to stare. ::

He looked back down to his plate, and I focused intently on his ears again. It was just so... _odd_. I couldn't stop staring! Maybe he was in some sort of accident? Tortured by orcs? Maybe he was practicing with a sword for the first time and sliced of the tips of his ears! But how uncoordinated and stupid would you have to be in order to accomplish _that _sort of feat? I didn't realize I was shredding my roll absentmindedly until Elrohir cleared his throat politely. I had been getting shredded roll on his lap.

I blushed another appology before eating another small portion of a potato before standing up. :: I tired, :: I told the twins. :: I'm going to retire to my rooms now. ::

Elladan stood up as well. I almost got the distinct impression that he was enamoured of me, but I quickly brushed it off. :: Do you need any company? :: He asked, almost eager. I shook my head no, I could find my way back easily enough alone. I bid them and Lord Elrond a good night, before walking out as quickly as I could, trying to ignore the stares of other elves in the chamber.

I reached my rooms and slid in, illuminating a single candle for light. I changed out of my clothes into a loose white tunic and tucked my weapons into the armior. I hesitantly walked over to the bed and sat down, hearing a _poof_ of air being squeezed out of the soft, downy mattress.

It was too much for me far too soon- I walked back to the armoir, fetched my machete, and found a dark corner, where I pressed my back against and fell asleep, machete held loosely in my hand.


	8. Chapter 8

**Marluciel: heyy, this is my story I've created out of complete boredom! I dont own anything but the plot and my OCs, some of which that belong to Healer Anduniel. One warning, my OC is somewhat... Mary-Sueish, at least in my opinion. Ive taken a very... LARGE poetic licence here so... yeah. I hope you like my story!**

_Blahblahblah" Black Speech_

"blahblahblah" Sindarin

**:** blahblahblah **:** Quenya

**/** blahblahblah **/** Rohirrim

I awoke, sweating, shaking and gasping for breath, quickly looking around at my surroundings. A stab of fear, so intense it was almost painful, entered my heart. I didn't recognize this place.

_Where was I?_

Gone were the metal bars on every side. Gone was the cold, unforgiving stone floor below me. Gone was my ratty, bloodstained cushion that served as a poor excuse for a bed, and gone was the rancid basin full of waste.

What scared me the most, though, was gone were my guards.

_Where was I?_

This wasn't my cell. Was I moved? Did they finally take me to "that place" they were always murmuring about? My heart was hammering madly against my ribcage, the rapid sound of my pumping blood and ragged breath the only thing I could hear in the deafening silence.

_Where was I?_

It was dark, oh, Eru, it was so dark. I hated the dark.

The sudden sound of something thudding just above my head nearly caused me to twist around and jump to my feet, almost shrieking in fright. Instead I bit on my lip to muffle my scream, drawing blood as I bit through. The warm, coppery taste of blood that filled my mouth was the one familiar thing to me in this room.

I squinted- my eyes were quickly adjusting to the dim room- the sun was slowly starting to rise, and I could make out some sort of square not more than six paces in front of me. I silently began to tread over, padding on the balls of my feet, prepared to spring away at any moment.

The clatter of metal caused me to jump three feet in alarm. I had kicked something- what? I immediately dropped to my knees, feeling for whatever I kicked. I froze as my hand came into contact with a blade. My hands frantically scrabbled at it. I recognized the curve of metal and shape of the hilt- not in the way I would recognize an enemy's blade. No, this was mine. Warmth shot through my veins as my hand curled around the hilt. At least I wasn't defenseless.

I stood back up, returning my attention to the square of light in front of me. I placed a hand out and jumped in surprise as my hand came into contact with cold glass. I pressed myself close to it and looked out. A window. On the sill below me, a dazed bird looked confusedly up at me. Evidently, this was what had thudded into the window.

But my mind had tuned out this sort of useless tidbit, as it usually did when I was in my escape-drive. I tapped experimentally at the rusted bronze hinges. Obviously this window had not been opened in a long time. This didn't bother me, however. If I couldn't pry the window open, I could always break it.

Just as I had thought, it wouldn't open at a mere push. So I set my machete down next to the wall and hopped up nimbly onto the window sill, securely planting my feet as I started to try to pry the window open. I had the windo w open, a gap of about three inches when I heard voices outside my door. I froze, and finally moved when I heard the knob to my door turn.

In a flash I was behind the door, machete in hand and ready to attack. The moment my unsuspecting enemy entered the room, I leapt, grabbed them by the throat and slammed them up against a wall, blade resting on the soft part of their exposed neck. I was about to spill his life-blood when-

:: Marluciel! Stop! ::

I turned fear-crazed, dilated eyes towards the voice. An elf with long black hair and familiar grey eyes stood in the door way.

:: Marluciel. :: he said softly, taking a step towards me. I instinctively tightened my grip on my sword and snarled at him. :: Marluciel, you are no longer in your prison. You are in Rivendell, in my home. I am Elrond. We met yesterday, remember? :: I stared at the elf for a moment. He took yet another small step to me. :: If you could release Officer Tengalion, that would be greatly appreciated. ::

My mind suddenly clicked and I remembered- I had escaped yesterday. That was Elrond in front of me. I was in his home. I was free of my captors. I looked at the fearful eyes in front of me and immediately let of the elf, who ran out the door without a backwards glance. I turned to Elrond.

:: I- I- I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me, I- ::

Elrond gave me a soothing look. :: It's alright, Marluciel. :: He said, trying to placate the knot of guilt in my stomach. He gave me a sad smile. :: How about some warm tea and a little breakfast? ::

I nodded numbly, not trusting my voice. Giving me another smile, Elrond led me out of the room.

**Marluciel: I orginally did NOT have this part planned for the fic, but after Pissenoffanis asked what would happen in the morning, this got me thinking. What do YOU think about it? please tell :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Marluciel: heyy, this is my story I've created out of complete boredom! I dont own anything but the plot and my OCs, some of which that belong to Healer Anduniel. One warning, my OC is somewhat... Mary-Sueish, at least in my opinion. Ive taken a very... LARGE poetic licence here so... yeah. I hope you like my story!**

* * *

The next few weeks found me training with the twins and Aragorn on a weekly basis. My skills somehow outmatched them, the shortest time for me to disarm all of them around ten minutes. Their excuse for loosing every time was that I had a strange fighting technique, one that they had never seen before. Elrond found this all very amusing, and decided one day to watch our training session.

When the last clatter of Elladan's sword fell to the courtyard stones, I wiped my brow, ridding of the thin sheen of sweat. "Whew," I said. "You three just keep on comin' back for more, don't you ?" Another one of my proud accomplishments was that I had mastered not only Sindarin, in only a matter of weeks. Erestor was practically beaming when we had our first full Sindarin conversation.

Elrond clapped, a smile lighting up his features. "Good job, Marluciel." I ducked my head in embarassment. "You _do_ have a rather strange fighting technique, but it is very effective."

I dipped my heads in thanks.

"And, from watching you," He went on to continue, "I would very much appreciate if you would join our guard, patrolling the borders for orcs. That is- if you don't mind-"

I attempted at a smile, but even from the duration of my stay my facial muscles still could not manage. "No, I don't. I would be honored to, my lord."

"Excellent!" The twins cry out at the same time, bounding over to me and throwing their arms about my skinny shoulders. It took all my will power not to recoil away.

"You know what that means-" Elladan started

"Every morning-" Elrohir interrupted

"You get-"

"To wake up-"

"Bright and early-"

"Oh, yes, very bright and very early, isn't that right, 'Dan?"

"_Very_ bright and _very_ early indeed, brother."

"Now that we've established-"

"Your rising time-"

"You will get up-"

"And patrol the borders-"

"With us, of course-"

"Every single day!"

"Isn't that just great?"

"Absolutely peachy, " I groan, wriggling my way out of their grasp. "I do hope that you won't be like that in the mornings." The twins exchange sly glances.

"Oh, of course-" Elrohir started.

"Not!" Elladan said loudly, elbowing his brother in the gut.

"Oh, no, of course not," Elrohir wheezed, eyes watering. "Not at all."

* * *

_A month later..._

I was sitting cross-legged on my favorite perch, on the roof of the library, sunning and eating nectarines and rolls when I saw in the distance a group of el ves on horseback arriving. There was a very pretty elleth in the middle, riding a sleek grey horse, with fair, gold hair and white skin. Her comrades around her looked the same. I guessed she was someone from Lothlorien.

I wanted to go and meet them, I really did, but.... I just couldn't. Even though the twins were making me more comfortable and I was only able to manage the weakest, most strained smile, I was not a people person. Too many people in one place made me fidget and become very claustrophobic, and usually I had to run away from situations like that lest I throw up on my company's feet. I watched with a feeling of sadness as the group walked below my perch, completely unaware of my presence.

I turned in my seat and watched them proceed up to the main building, where Elrond greeted them with open arms and a warm smile.

Moments later, after the Elves had disappeared inside, Erestor came hustling and bustling into library, looking spectacularly flustered. I flipped over and hung from the roof by my knees, upside down and watching with Elf with an amused expression.

Erestor moved about, mumbling to himself in a frantic tone. He spotted me and started with surprise. "Oh, Marluciel, you scared me!" he said, nervously patting his quill back in place behind his ear.

I responded with a silent twitch of the lips, my own form of a grin.

Erestor saw this quick movement and frowned, and quickly berated me. "Marluciel, you could have told me that you saw them, then I could have gotten Elrond's notes faster and then I wouldn't be so behind and then I wouldn't have all of these angry healers after my hide and Elrond won't be so grumpy at dinner and..." his voice trailed off as he left the library, arms full of parchments written by Elrond.

I crossed my arms over my chest from my hanging position, thinking. So they were healers? That was new. I hadn't ever seen a healer besides Elrond, so I felt that they were all men, with dark hair and slanty eyebrows. My hypothesis had been shot down.

A couple hours past, judging from the setting of the sun, and I still hung from my position, staring unseeing at the piles and piles of tomes. A sudden creak of an opening door jolted me out of my reverie and I pulled myself up quickly, sitting on my haunches on the roof, fingers gripping the edge of the tiles.

"Marluciel, I know you're up there," Came Elladan's voice. How I knew it was Elladan, I have not a clue. Well,=2 0I suppose, that Elladan's voice is a tad deeper and Elrohir drawls in a constant sneer or grin.

I flipped back over the edge, swinging by my knees. "How did you know I was here?" I asked grumpily. I crossed my arms and frowned, trying to go for Elrond's patent frowny face, but I don't think I pulled it off very well, judging from Elladan's open snicker.

"Erestor," was his one word reply.

I scowled, and recrossed my arms. "Well, what do you want?" I asked, trying not to sound too snappish.

Elladan shook his head and grinned up at me, walking right below me. "_Ada_ wants you to join us for dinner, Mar."

I glowered at the butchering of my name, and then glowered some more at Elrond's request. Since I was so jumpy in front of large crowds, I either ate in the kitchens or in my chambers. Elrond had no problem with this, and never asked for my presence at meals. I sighed and resigned myself to my fate.

"Oh, fine. Fine, fine, fine. Give me a moment." I prepared to get down, when Elladan's voice floated up.

"Don't you need help?"

"no-" I said, while grabbing at a nectarine that was lying by my heel when I suddenly lost my grip and fell...

... Straight into Elladan's arms. His arms were looped right at the crook of my knees and under my shoulders, in a bridal position. "I think you did need my help," He grinned down at me, shifting my weight so he could hold me easier. I blushed heavily and looked in the other direction as he slowly put me down, too slowly in my opinion. His hand lingered on the small of my back.

"Aren't we late," I finally grouched irritably, wrenching Elladan from his stare that was directed at me. He looked out the window, saw the sun's setting, and swore loudly.

"Come on!" He cried, grabbing my hand and yanking me out the door. We whizzed past room after room, down hallway after hallway until Elladan burst through the doors to the Hall of Fire.

I felt all eyes of the Elves in the room land on Elladan first, then our connected hands, and then me. And then back to Elladan, to me, and to our flushed faces. I blushed again and snatched my hand away. Elrond, Elrohir, and Aragorn's eyebrows were all raised, a smirk playing on Elro hir's lips.

Oh, how I wanted to beat it off.

Elladan led me to a seat, once again between Elrohir and himself, his hand resting on my lower back. I tried to shimmy away from his touch, but he held fast.

I sat down softly, trying to ignore all of the stares directed at me while Elladan once again poured me a goblet of juice and Elrohir filled my plate with food.

"Please don't make this a habit," I sighed.

They exchanged grins and said at the same time, "it already is." I shook my head in resignation.

I was taking a pull of my plum nectar when I noticed a blonde haired, attractive Elf sitting next to Elrond, who was staring rather curiously at me.

&nbs p; Just as I had taken notice of this new Elf, Elrond cleared his throat. "Marluciel," He began. "This is Lord Glorfindel, a dear friend of mine and commander of Rivendell's guard." I dipped my head politely at Glorfindel, but didn't say anything. He, however, did.

"So you are the new guard that has been soaring through rankings, no?" He asked, swirling his wine in his glass.

This was true- I had been going up in ranks almost every week- at the moment I was at the same level as Elladan and Elrohir, lieutenant. It was almost ridiculously easy- I knew where all of the Orcs would be, because I could listen to their speech, unlike all of the other Elves. I hadn't indulged anyone in my secret that I could understand Black Speech, however. I didn't think that it would be taken easily in this place.

I nodded jerkily, hating every moment that every single elf's eyes were focused on me. I especially hated the cool assessing gaze of the Lothlorien she-elf healer. Her blue grey eyes seemed to see everything about me, and it was making me feel incredibly out of place.

"So where do you come from, Marluciel?" Glorfindel had abandoned his wine and sat straighter in his seat, staring directly at me. I stiffened. Elrond put up a calming hand and tried to amend the situation.

"Glorfindel- she doesn't remember-" He started, but the blond Elf interrupted him, waving away Elrond's hand.

"No, I don't believe that. Now, Marluciel, you must certainly remember where you were born, where you lived, who your family is. Do you even know your age?"

I glared at him, the temperature dropping a few degrees cooler. My green eyes had turned into chips of green ice. "No, I do not." I said quietly, but my voice travelled easily through the now very quiet hall. "I have no memory of my life before the caves, the orcs, and the torture." my voice had become very cold and had an almost hissing quality to it. :: I do not remember my family," I continued, not knowing I was speaking in Quenya, :: I don't remember a life outside pain, _my lord_. Of my age, I have not an idea. ::

"You dare speak in Quenya!" He said, rising, only to be pushed back down by Elrond.

:: Yes, I dare, :: I hissed, rising as well, shaking off the twin's hands. I pushed back my seat with a screech and looked about the room. "I'm leaving."

Immediately sounds of outrage came from the healers. "You are too thin!" One from Mirkwood cried, while another from Lothlorien announced, "You're suffering from malnourishment! You must eat!"

I glared at all of them. "I'll be in the kitchens." I spun on my toes and was out of the room, making sure to slam the doors as loudly as possible behind me.


End file.
